Take me to the Greek

When I recline in my private , so special  Double Bay club, I feel this country’s pain, it’s not easy imbibing the Scotch and Soda ,talking with one’s friends about things that really matter, share prices, the housing market, the world politic and how do they stuff the olive and what condiments do they put in it..did you know that the humble truffle is a dirty blob of fungi, yes a disgusting germy fungoid ,no nor did I until I saw it on the Discovery channel ,I now will avert my glance away from such portends in future…though I digress…is it me or are these Helenic gods determined to drag us into some consummate cess pit that is the Euro zone. God knows my investments in the Isle of Capri have suffered immeasurably , coffee shops are a money pit, though obviously philanthropy is close to my heart…but the Greeks have always been an idle lot, when they could be working purposefully   they always choose to sit around in Toga’s and philosophise about the world and dare I say talk about work. Yes the Greeks love to talk about work but never actually do any…that’s why we have philosophy, but take for instance the humble Greek salad, it’s a salad that has cheese in it, pardon me but how hard is it to cut up some old cheese and put it in the salad ,that’s not hard, and the cheese is just milk that has been strained through some grandmothers underpants and left to go bad…which frankly I find quite abhorrent to think about…but as they say one good turn deserves another…so to my good  friend Demetri who I am quite fond of,  I hope one day he may be allowed to clean the toilets at our Double Bay club….and repay his debt .. tootly poops Tartly